


but then (i met you)

by whatisitkirschtein



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, i am hanamatsu trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4914826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatisitkirschtein/pseuds/whatisitkirschtein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, sorry to bother you so late, but I was just wondering if a package was delivered here? My mom sent one to me but she may have mixed up the address. It should’ve been a box of cookies.” That grabs Takahiro’s attention.</p><p>“Uh,” Takahiro says eloquently because uh, what do you say to a guy whose cookies you’ve eaten????? “About that...”</p>
            </blockquote>





	but then (i met you)

**Author's Note:**

> i blame [suzie](http://atthisuniverse.tumblr.com/) and also [this](http://awful-aus.tumblr.com/post/128657729157/awful-au-347) AU from tumblr 
> 
> hanamatsu t r a s h
> 
> mention of blood, puke, and stuff like that in the beginning, so if that's not your jam you can skip to "he managed to trick lev..."

It was.

It was just a bad day for Takahiro.

As a nurse, he was used to seeing some pretty terrible, and often fucked up things. Blood, exposed bones, limbs caught in questionable objects. You name it, and Takahiro has gotten the opportunity to get up close and personal with it in ways most people don’t, and don’t ever wish to.

So, when one of his patients had thrown up on him, well. It wasn’t quite an uncommon occurrence for someone in the emergency ward, but that doesn’t mean it was appreciated. Takahiro just accepted his fate, reminded himself that this is what he had signed up for when he decided to go into medical school, and changed into clean scrubs, ready to continue his 36-hour shift when. Well. The same patient as before -- _the same patient who was supposed to be in bed, what the hell_ \-- came over and just. Threw up. All over him. Again.

Now, Takahiro was used to dealing with all sorts of people. Uncooperative people, annoying people, people who were downright bat-shit crazy. But never in his years had he dealt with someone who seemed to have a personal vendetta against him and expressed their dislike towards him by throwing up on him. Multiple times.

And well, he only ever brings one extra pair of scrubs a day because that’s all he ever needed before this. So he was forced to borrow another nurse's scrubs, and God, Takahiro is taller and broader than most, but he was practically _swimming_ in Asahi’s scrubs.

But Takahiro had more important things to worry about than too-wide necklines, and Kuroo snickering behind him all day because of his exposed collarbones. He only needed to focus on finishing the remaining 12 hours of his shift and trying to get as far away as possible from The Puker.

He managed to trick Lev into switching patients with him, and expertly tuned him out when he came up to him to complain later on in the day, so the rest of his shift had ended smoothly, and he was more than ready to pass the fuck out. But then. His train.

There was something wrong with the tracks or something that Takahiro didn’t care too much about. All he knew was that his train was delayed, his feet legitimately felt like they were going to fall off, and if he didn’t get on a train Right This Second, there was a high possibility of him just flinging himself onto the tracks to cry and hopefully die.

He didn’t end up crying, dying, or flinging himself on the tracks, despite how much he wanted to because of the one and a half hour wait he was forced to suffer through. Even after the train was running again, Takahiro’s mood didn’t lighten up in the slightest, because there were people pushing him from every direction, and with the way they were surrounding him, he felt very much like a packed sardine.

Finally, _finally_ , Takahiro was freed from the clutches of the train, and he took a not-so-subtle gasp of air as he got off.

He had only been walking for about half a minute when Takahiro felt a raindrop on his head. “ _Please no_ ,” he thought aloud, moments before the skies opened up, soaking him in a matter of seconds. Takahiro just sighed, hoping that the storm wouldn’t cause him to catch a cold. He took solace in the fact that his phone would likely be safe from the rain under his scrubs in his bag, before remembering that he hadn’t been able to find any plastic bags to put them in, so he had been forced to shove his dirty, pukey scrubs straight into his bag, and onto his phone.

Takahiro sighed again.

It was gonna be a long night.

 ****  
  
  
  
  


Takahiro finally made it to his apartment building, absolutely drenched and dead on his feet. He left a trail of water behind him with every step he took, and by the time he got off the elevator, there was a small puddle by his feet. He was too tired to care.

Eyes half closed, Takahiro pulled out his keys and opened the door, almost falling inside face first. His quick reflexes allowed him to move over the object that had tripped him and inside the threshold, stumbling a bit on the landing. Takahiro glared at the offending object, noticing that it was a small, tin box. He picked it up and placed it on his couch on his way to the bedroom, the only thing interesting him at the moment being the idea of a long, hot shower.

He comes out much later in a much better mood in his favourite pair of Godzilla pyjama pants that Iwaizumi bought him, and his thickest sweater, an ugly lime green hoodie with small grey aliens donned all over it. That was a gag gift from Oikawa, dating all the way back to high school, but it was way too comfy for its own good, even now, so Takahiro had never gotten rid of it, usually only wearing it in the confines of his own home.

Absentmindedly flipping through channels as he sits, Takahiro extends his legs on his couch, one of his feet bumping into the box he had put on the couch earlier on. Now curious, Takahiro reaches over and grabs it, examining it. The address on it is his, but the name isn’t. Takahiro shrugs it off; he gets all sorts of random mail delivered to his apartment for previous tenants despite the fact that he had been living there for nearly two years already.

Takahiro takes off the ribbon surrounding the box and opens up the lid. Inside are an obnoxious amount of cookies, and Takahiro takes a moment to thank whatever gods existed for this moment; he’d been craving something sweet all day.

Settling on a random action movie that was playing, Takahiro gets comfortable and digs into his (they’re his, they were in front of his apartment, they’re _his_ ) cookies. One bite into them and Takahiro is in love.

They must be some original, speciality flavour because Takahiro doesn’t recognize the taste but _holy shit they’re good_. He stuffs one after the other into his mouth, and by the end of the movie nothing remains in the box but crumbs, and Takahiro is left feeling full and content.

* * *

 

A couple days later sees Takahiro back at work, and the cookies gone from his mind within the hustle and bustle of a long shift at a busy hospital.

He gets home in the early evening, significantly drier and less grumpy than a couple days ago. He goes through his usual routine, taking a shower and eating dinner before bed when he doorbell rings.Takahiro raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t question it. It was probably the nice old lady from down the hall asking him to get her cat from behind the fridge again.

When Takahiro opens the door, he is pleasantly surprised to find that it is not the nice old lady from down the hall, but rather the hot young man in the apartment directly across from his.

Hot Guy’s eyebrows immediately shoot up when Takahiro opens the door, and he is momentarily confused why until he remembers that he’s wearing his atrocious Godzilla pyjama pants and alien hoodie combination again. Takahiro just shrugs in response, unembarrassed. It was his home, he would damn well wear whatever he wanted. Plus they were super comfy.

“Hey,” he says. “What’s up?” Takahiro’s trying to play it cool, because Hot Guy is very hot and he maybe kinda wants to date and/or hook up with him in the near future if possible, so seeming cooler than he really is, is a must.

“Hey, sorry to bother you so late, but I was just wondering if a package was delivered here?” Takahiro is only half listening to what the guy is saying because holy shit his voice is deep and raspy and perfect. “My mom sent one to me, but she may have mixed up the address. It should’ve been a box of cookies.” _That_ grabs Takahiro’s attention.

“Uh,” Takahiro says eloquently because uh, what do you say to a guy whose cookies you’ve eaten????? “About that...”

The guy’s sleepy eyes widen, panic evident in them. “ _Please no_ ,” he whispers.

Takahiro winces, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeeeeah… I’m really sorry. If it’s any consolation, they were the best cookies I’ve ever had.” Takahiro immediately wants to slap himself because what kind of idiot eats a guy’s cookies and then brags about how good they were?

Hot Guy doesn’t seem to notice though. He just lets out a big sigh and slumps a bit, and Takahiro feels really bad all of a sudden, knowing he’d eaten a guy’s homemade cookies that were from his mom. “It’s okay, I’ll just ask her to bake me another batch. Glad you enjoyed them though. Sorry for bothering you, goodnight.” Hot Guy starts to turn and leave, but uhm no that is not okay because 1.) Takahiro still feels really bad and 2.) Takahiro still kinda wants to maybe get in his pants possibly at a certain date. So Takahiro lets out a “Wait!” and Hot Guy turns back around.

“Let me make it up to you,” Takahiro says, still trying to come off as nonchalant, but internally shitting his pants. “I’ll buy you dinner, or something. If you haven’t eaten already.”

Hot Guy raises another eyebrow at him, as though he can see right through Takahiro, and it simultaneously pisses him off and turns him on at the same time. “You’re gonna take me out wearing _that_?” Hot Guy gives him an unsubtle glance-over, and Takahiro has to suppress a shudder.

Takahiro just looks down at his clothes and shrugs a shoulder again. “They’re warm and comfy. Now whaddya say? Hint: you can’t say no.”

Hot Guy runs a hand through his hair and lets out a low chuckle. “Well in that case, what choice do I have? Yeah, okay, I’ll go out with you.” Takahiro smiles at the words, and Hot Guy smiles back. “I’m Matsukawa, by the way. Just so you know whose name to look out for if another box of cookies that don’t belong to you lands on your doorstep.”

Takahiro flushes a little in embarrassment, and _woah_ since when did anyone ever made Takahiro blush? “Duly noted,” he chokes out. “I’m Hanamaki. Just so you know whose name to write when you tell your mom your cookies were eaten by someone else.”

Hot Guy -- _Matsukawa_ , he corrects, chuckles again. “Duly noted.”

 ****  
  
  
  
  
  


After Takahiro’s insistence of Matsukawa choosing the place to eat, they end up at a small, partially secluded burger joint just a 10 minute walk from their apartment building. Takahiro’s never been here before, but Matsukawa seems highly familiar with it, the workers behind the counter, and even some other patrons calling out to him the minute he walks through the door.

“Well aren’t you Mister Popular,” Takahiro teases, knocking his shoulder into Matsukawa’s gently.

“I’ve been going here every summer break since I was a kid,” Matsukawa explains, sitting them down at a free booth in a semi-private corner. “My parents are friends with the owners, actually. I know practically everyone that works here, and all the regulars.”

“You ever work here?”

“Nah, they say once you work at a restaurant, you can never eat there again. These burgers are too good for me to get sick of them.”

The genuine look of worry on Matsukawa’s face is enough to have Takahiro burst out laughing, and Matsukawa punches him in the shoulder, face slightly red. “Not funny, asshole.”

The two have a long dinner together, laughing, eating, and getting to know one another. Takahiro is happy to find out that they have an amazingly similar sense of humour, and they spend a good portion of the time cracking jokes about each other and the people they watch outside the window.

Conversation is easy with Matsukawa, Takahiro notices, and he can’t remember a time in which he had gotten along so effortlessly with someone. Their ability to match each other so well despite just meeting was both startling and intriguing.

They stay in the restaurant until it’s late and the owners come over and practically shove them out the door, making Matsukawa promise to keep in touch and inviting Takahiro to come again, but only if his outfits are as outrageous as the one he currently has on. They both laugh and agree and make their way home, leaving practically no space between them as they idle down the sidewalk, in no rush whatsoever.

When they get to the apartment they exchange numbers in the elevator, arguing over which emojis belonged next to whose name, leaning against each as they laughed.

The two end up in front of their apartment doors and Takahiro is reluctant to go, knowing he needs to go in and sleep so waking up later won’t be pain, but not wanting to part from Matsukawa either.

“I had fun,” he says finally, giving Matsukawa a small smile.

Matsukawa smiles back in response and Takahiro tells the butterflies in his stomach to shut up because he’s not a kid with a middle school crush anymore, _thank you very much._

“I did too. We should do it again. Except, maybe you shouldn’t wear pyjamas. Kind of embarrassing.”

“Or maybe _you_ can wear pyjamas with me so we’ll match and no one will be embarrassed.”

Matsukawa smirks. “Couple outfits already? Damn, we’re moving a bit fast, Makki.”

“What can I say? I find it hard to resist hot guys with nice hair and who can eat more cheeseburgers than me.”

Matsukawa laughs and steps closer to Takahiro until he’s backed up into his apartment door. He places one hand on each side of Takahiro’s head, and in this position Takahiro feels boxed in, but he doesn’t mind it, and he can’t help the way his breath speeds up. “Y’know, when I first saw you in these stupid pyjamas, I didn’t think you’d be as cool as you are.”

Takahiro laughs, his eyes locked on Matsukawa’s. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover?”

“I’m not a very good listener to be quite honest.” Matsukawa licks his lips and Takahiro’s eyes track the movement. Matsukawa’s chuckle right after tells him that that was his plan all along and Takahiro glares at him in response.

“What if,” he whispers, licking his own lips, smirking when Matsukawa does as he did and watches the action. “I told you to kiss me? Would you listen then?”

“Well.” Matsukawa swallows.  “That… that might have to be an exception.”

Takahiro hums, tilting his head slightly. “So then. Kiss me, Matsukawa.

“With pleasure.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> makki always starts off with a bad day in my fics this poor child i am sorry  
> did you know i've lived in my current house for 6 years and still get mail from old tenants?? weird.  
> talk to me on [tumblr](spookytaiga.tumblr.com). i beg you.


End file.
